You and Asher had always hated each other, so being stuck at the same table was already unbearable.

Then, in the middle of Mrs. J’s lesson, he tapped your foot.

You shot him a glare. He didn’t even look at you. Another nudge.

Fine. If he wanted a game, you’d give him one.

You pressed back, and just like that, footsies became an unspoken battle neither of you wanted to lose lose.